


Lit by the Rarest of Lights

by PrideGifts (Laeviss)



Series: Wranduin! [4]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: Aka why Taelia doesn't know about Bolvar oops, Anduin shirking his responsibilities and letting Wrathion whisk him away, Fluff, M/M, Northern Lights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeviss/pseuds/PrideGifts
Summary: Anduin has traveled to Boralus to attend a series of difficult meetings, but Wrathion arrives and offers him an escape.
Relationships: Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Series: Wranduin! [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756381
Comments: 10
Kudos: 64





	Lit by the Rarest of Lights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pinkelephant42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkelephant42/gifts).



> Based on [this](https://pinkelephant42.tumblr.com/post/622410431146967040/one-of-those-adventures-wrathion-promised-the) beautiful piece by PinkElephant42! Thank you so much! I hope you like it! ♥

Anduin leaned against the stone balcony, listening to the high laughter of carousing nobles in the courtyard below. From where he stood atop the highest tower of Proudmoore Keep, the candle lamps lighting the hedge maze looked like flickering stars. Every so often a shadow would pass before them and Anduin would catch a glimpse of a smiling face or a couple leaning into each other’s embrace.

They seemed so…carefree. He longed to be walking among them, whiling away the hours with nowhere to go except, perhaps, to a cozy tavern or into a quiet bed. Instead he was required in the main hall in an hour to discuss the Horde’s continued presence in Anyport, and then, if he couldn’t escape fast enough, in Jaina’s private chamber for an even more difficult meeting with Taelia to reveal what had become of her father.

The very thought of that talk made Anduin’s chest tighten. Though he was wearing nothing but a light linen tunic, his shoulders ached, and the small of his back tensed as it did when he donned his suit of armor. With a small sigh, he turned away from the balcony.

Perhaps he could pour himself a glass of wine to loosen up, but then he ran the risk of losing track of his words. Instead of making a decision, he lingered for a pause by the door. He shifted his weight from side to side and hugged his arms to his chest. A cool breeze from off the sound prickled the sweat that had gathered beneath his ponytail.

Somewhere off in the distance he heard somebody singing. Trying to make out the words through a thick Kul Tiran accent, he furrowed his brow. He listened and stared unseeingly into the darkness. Just then, the clicking of heels off to his right tore him from his lull.

Whirling around, Anduin straightened. A familiar figure leaned against the far corner of the balcony, his clawed fingers tapping on the stone. He grinned. Anduin tensed. In his shock, the king spat out a terse “What?” before managing a slightly more coherent “Wrathion? How on earth did you get up here?”

Rather than being put off by the king’s snippy question, the dragon just shrugged. His smile widened, his sharp teeth catching a glint from the light of the moon. “The benefits of being raised by rogues, my dear,” he replied. His red eyes burned in the shadows.

Though he wasn’t sure if it were the dragon’s use of the old pet name or his typical non-answer that grated on his nerves, Anduin couldn’t stop himself from pursing his lips. He took a step closer; his eyes searched Wrathion’s face. “I thought you were supposed to be in Silithus.”

“You looked concerned, Anduin. You have for the better part of the evening. Is there something that’s troubling you?”

“Were you _watching_ me?” Anduin’s eyes widened, a bit incredulous. Even now, the dragon never ceased to surprise him.

But while Anduin did little to hide his feelings, Wrathion’s face remained serene. He turned, directing his crimson gaze down at the nobles below. “I happened to be in the neighborhood.” He leaned forward, his thick curls swishing about his face.

After heaving a sigh, Anduin moved to join him, resting his elbow against a balustrade off to Wrathion’s left. “Doing what?” He quipped. Some of the edge in his voice had faded, though he hadn't made the shift consciously. “Stocking up on some Midnight Salmon, or something?”

“Well, you know, my dear, Magni and MOTHER _do_ have to eat.”

It was spoken so plainly, so solemnly that Anduin couldn’t help but chuckle. The muscles in his face started to relax, and as he studied Wrathion in profile he caught the corners of the dragon’s lips twitching, as well.

Suddenly, the king felt lighter. It was strange how, no matter what Wrathion did, and no matter how many times he caused him trouble, he always seemed to have this effect on him.

“But really,” Anduin tried again, this time far more amiably, “What are you doing here? How did you even know I’d be coming to Kul Tiras?”

Again, Wrathion offered one of his non-answers; this time, however, it didn’t irritate Anduin nearly as much as it should have.

“I simply thought a bit of sea travel might have put you in a more agreeable mood. Judging by the way you were scowling at the door when I arrived, however, it seems I was mistaken.”

At that, Anduin had to bite his lip to keep down an embarrassed chuckle. He couldn’t, however, keep his cheeks from growing a few shades darker. He turned, leaning his back against the railing and directing his gaze towards the tower once more.

“I have something difficult I need to do tonight,” he admitted after a pause. “I was trying to decide if I’m better off hitting the wine Auntie Jaina left in my chamber or if I should save it until I'm done.”

“Afraid you might need it afterwards?” Wrathion ventured a guess. He didn’t wait for an answer, continuing with a slight flick of his wrist, “I would be more than happy to join you for wine, though I suppose that goes without saying. Or we could skip your meetings entirely, and I could ferry you across the sound to show you what I came to see.”

“I—” Anduin shot Wrathion a glance. He had intended to say he wasn’t sure he should bring the dragon into the Keep without Lady Katherine’s permission, but the prince’s second offer made his jaw slacken and left him grasping for words. He finally managed to reply, though his voice felt heavy on the tip of his tongue, “I can’t.”

“You can,” Wrathion corrected him. Unlike Anduin, the dragon seemed to pronounce the words with ease. “You are the king. You can do whatever you want. I had hoped that after spending a year on the throne you would have realized as much.”

“You act as if I can come and go as I please. Ruling a human kingdom isn’t like that, Wrathion,” he paused, and then added, matching the lilt he had caught in the dragon’s voice, “I had hoped _you_ would remember the talks we had back at the Tavern, about what being a king means in human society.”

“Oh, I remember. Trust me, Anduin. There isn’t a day that goes by without me thinking of our talks at the Tavern.”

That…caught Anduin genuinely off guard. He raised a brow, glancing to the side and trying to catch a hint of a joke on Wrathion’s lips, but for once the dragon looked serious. Anduin couldn’t help but smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but Wrathion cut him off, his words continuing to flow like the melodic trickling of a brook:

“I simply wanted to help set your mind at ease, and make good on an old promise, at that. You might not be aware, but I am now large enough to carry you on my back. If we are quick about it, I can return you in time for whatever difficult business Auntie Jaina has planned to ruin your evening.”

Anduin wasn’t sure what made him answer the way that he did. He didn’t even fully know what to expect from his treacherous tongue until he heard the words leave his lips. “I—all right,” he whispered, and then, standing up a bit straighter, added with more conviction, “But only if we come back, and only if we’re careful not to be seen leaving town.”

“Understood, your Majesty.” Wrathion turned to him. His lips parted into another toothy grin that seemed to glitter in the darkness. He took a few steps towards the wall, and then reached out and offered Anduin his hand.

The king glanced down at it, then back into Wrathion’s crimson eyes. Taken aback, he didn’t move…at least, not at first. He waited until the Black Prince laughed, and explained:

“If you insist on leaving unseen, I’m going to have to reveal the secret of my arrival, as well. A small price to pay for your company, I believe, even if I’d prefer to fly us directly.”

The king cracked a small smile. Reaching out, he clasped the dragon’s slender hand and allowed himself to be tugged towards the wall. “And I’d prefer not to be shot down by the gryphon riders who patrol the city, if that is all right with you.”

“Of course,” Wrathion flashed him a devilish smirk. “Though it might allow you another extended recovery at the Tavern. If your mortal body survived the fall, of course.”

“You know, you really aren't inspiring confidence in your flying abilities with all this talk of accidents. Maybe I should wait until you’ve had a bit more practice,” Anduin teased, but even as he said it, he let Wrathion help him onto the ledge, then over to a bit of rope strung to the wall.

When Wrathion released his grip on his hand, Anduin immediately felt bereft of his warmth. He flexed his fingers, then curled them into his palm as he watched the dragon grasp the rope and slide down to a flat roof several feet below. The king looked down and swallowed, before grabbing the rope and mimicking his advisor’s movements.

An ache shot up Anduin’s leg when his feet made contact with the stone, but thankfully Wrathion was there to catch him, wrapping an arm around his back and grounding him into his footing. That hand lingered a few moments longer than it needed to, but Anduin didn’t complain. He smoothed out his tunic, then followed Wrathion from the edge of the roof into the branches of a tree, and then down onto the soft earth surrounding its trunk. They walked side by side to the docks and out to the edge of the water.

Once they had passed beyond the last city lamp, Wrathion took a step forward and transformed. Though it was difficult to make out the details of his body in the darkness, Anduin felt the presence around him shift, sensing the change in his weight and the way he carried himself.

As Anduin had so often done with the gryphons in Stormwind, he reached out to touch Wrathion’s back with a gentle palm. Where he was used to finding feathers and fur, however, here he found scales, shapely and smooth, and a ridge that ran from the dragon’s head down past his wings.

He stroked that ridge for a moment. Beneath him, the dragon rumbled, then spoke in a voice that both was and was not the one Anduin knew: “I am no horse, my dear. You don’t need to tame me. I’m carrying you because I want to. Now, quickly, climb on my back, before another boat pulls into port.”

Remembering himself and what he was doing, Anduin lifted his leg and swung it over the dragon’s back. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Wrathion’s neck. Then, with a beat of draconic wings, they were off. The wind whipped at Anduin’s bangs, and the lights of the city grew smaller as they climbed up into the sky.

Even the tower looked tiny when they put their back to it. They soared across the dark sound and into the even darker wilderness on the opposite shore. Out here, the only sign of life was the occasional lamp at the end of a pier, or the even rarer rooftop peeking out from between the trees.

The further they got from Boralus, the brighter the stars seemed to grow. The wind, too, got colder as they flew through a gap in the mountains and then over a solemn manor at the top of a hill.

Anduin’s heart pounded in his chest, though it wasn’t really the height of their flight that shook him. Rather, it was the occasional burst of adrenaline at the thought of clinging to Wrathion’s back and going wherever he wanted to go. His body was both graceful and powerful; Anduin felt every muscle and scale moving beneath him as one. When he leaned forward, he could hear Wrathion’s beating heart and feel his breath reverberating in his throat.

He knew all too well the power Wrathion could unleash from that throat if the mood suddenly struck him. He could feel the heat and the tremble of it as the dragon ascended, then turned, then beat his wings to combat a gust of wind. Finally assured that he was safe, Anduin unclasped his arms from his neck and reached up, instead, to stroke him behind his horn. This earned him a murmur of approval that he felt from his cheek to his knees.

He smiled. Wrathion flew. They wove through another gap in the mountains then turned to face the roiling ocean beyond. A lighthouse jutted up from an island in the water, and beyond that the sky shone in greens and purples that seemed to reach from the waves to the stars.

A breath caught in Anduin’s throat. He tightened his grip on Wrathion’s neck, then pushed his body upright. His eyes widened. He barely felt the bite of the wind whipping at his cheeks.

After a moment of stunned silence, he looked down at the dragon flapping in place beneath him. “What…is it?” He asked in a small voice—almost, but not quite, too quiet to be heard.

“The Northern Lights,” Wrathion answered. “I used to see them every night while I traveled in Northrend, but it’s rare, I’ve heard, for their glow to reach this far south. Fortuitous, really, that it was set to happen right when you planned your trip, and strange the Proudmoores never mentioned it.”

“I guess they, ah,” Anduin hesitated. In the sky’s radiant glow, he wanted nothing more than to forget what waited for him in the Keep, but he couldn’t pretend it away, either. He bit his lip, drew in a breath, then continued, a bit louder, “I guess they had other things on their minds.”

“I figured as much, yes,” Wrathion responded. “But I, on the other hand, wouldn’t let you miss such an event. Shall I land? We may get a better view from the beach, and it certainly should be warmer.”

“Oh.” Anduin looked down at the white line of the coast beyond Wrathion’s snout. “Oh, yes. Yes, please.”

Wrathion nodded, then swooped down over the last of the trees and out onto the ivory strand. He landed with barely a thud, and then lowered his head. Anduin climbed off, though he let his hand remain on the dragon’s neck a bit longer, running his fingers absentmindedly through the cracks between his scales.

The Black Prince tilted his massive head into Anduin’s touch. In that moment, every annoyance and qualm Anduin had ever had with him slipped away, just as the tides drew back from the beach and out into the limitless sea.

The king stood for a time by his side, petting him, staring out over the ocean, and watching the colorful lights dance across the sky.

And then, Wrathion shifted. His body drew in, and the hand that Anduin had pressed against his back now came to rest at the small of his waist. He turned, pulling Anduin into his arms. The king didn’t return the gesture at first, but he likewise didn’t push him away. He instead let himself be led, until they were standing chest to chest bathed in the light from the sky.

It was only then that Anduin found his voice. He murmured, watching Wrathion’s face as he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Would you like me to stop?”

“That really isn’t an answer.”

“I’m not sure it needs to be,” Wrathion whispered, cracking his usual smile. Anduin stared into his eyes for a moment, his chest light, and his face suddenly hot. The dragon seemed to be holding his breath, as if trying to anticipate his movements, or, at least, assessing what he himself could do without upsetting the king.

Anduin made up his mind for the both of them. Tilting his head, he leaned in, drew in a breath, and then pressed their lips gently together.

Wrathion reached down and clasped his hand by their side. He let out a small 'hm' of approval, then returned the kiss. His beard tickled Anduin’s chin, and when the wind blew off of water, it made Wrathion’s curls sway against his cheeks.

The king closed his eyes. They kissed again. Their chests pressed closer together, and at once Anduin felt engulfed in the dragon’s warmth. Time seemed to stand still, and the Keep, its meetings, and the stresses of the throne seemed to belong to another world. They kissed, and kissed, and when they pulled back, Anduin marveled at the way the northern lights shone in purples and greens upon Wrathion’s handsome face. 


End file.
